


The Price of a Garden

by CrimsonSympathy



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Anal Sex, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Happy Ending, Sex, Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:22:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25256110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimsonSympathy/pseuds/CrimsonSympathy
Summary: When Sarah moves into a new home, a tropical paradise springs out of seemingly nowhere, and Sarah knows that magic is at work. But this magic comes at what cost? Unabashed J/S ~ sort of an enemy-to-lovers story.
Relationships: Jareth & Sarah Williams, Jareth/Sarah Williams
Comments: 13
Kudos: 154





	1. Part One

Author Note:

Hey everyone. Well. I don't have particularly good project management skills. I have my novel that's supposed to be worked on, a whole other epic that I'm writing for the Labyrinth fandom, a 48-hour short story contest I'm in the midst of, and now… this.

This story is a one-shot divided into three parts. Just a little story worm that got into my head when I was re-reading the official Labyrinth novelization. We're still going to be following mainly the movie events, not the book events. The story is almost finished. I'll be uploading part two soon, and part three within a few days of that.

A word about the timeline—yes, I've set the story in modern-day, and Sarah is 25, which doesn't add up. For this story, I nudged her Labyrinth run into the year 2010.

I also wanted to note that while I did do some research for this story, there may be some glaring errors for those who know more about the subject of stunt doubles and Hollywood than I do. If you see any of these that are just too egregious to ignore, PM me. I'm always around and happy to fix things.

There are lemons... in part 2 (and most likely in part 3)... but the buildup is always so much fun, isn't it?

Cheers my loves,

_Crimson Sympathy_

The Price of a Garden

##Part 1##

Sarah dodged the punch with only a hairs width space to spare. The cleaved air let out a faint hiss as her opponent's massive fist swept by her ear. Ducking under the outstretched arm, Sarah delivered two sharp jabs to the armpit—hard enough that she knew when his arm fell that she had succeeded in making him numb. Dancing back a few steps, fists raised, her green eyes darted to the other two brutes who were just now beginning to rise to their feet, groaning but looking meaner than ever.

Bouncing on the balls of her feet, Sarah prepared for the next few moments. They would rush her all at once, and she would have to jump off the sides of the crates that surrounded her in the massive warehouse, swinging on a bar ten feet off the ground to launch herself onto the mattress hidden behind a facsimile of more crates. The lights on her were hot, and sweat trickled down the side of her face. She ignored it, keeping her form. Then they were on the move.

Sarah ran to meet her attackers and then fell to the ground, sliding beneath their spread legs just as they had practiced. Then she was up and running, leapfrogging off the crates, grasping the bar, swinging and then— _bam_! She was on her back, the wind knocked out of her, and the director shouted through the loudspeaker: "Cut!"

A bell rang, and one of the paramedics kept on-site leaned over her, shining a penlight into her blinking eyes. "How are you doing, Sarah?"

Squinting against the glare, she sat up, attempting to suck more air into her deflated lungs. "Did we get the shot?"

"Don't know," the older man muttered. "Hey, look over here."

She did and was met with the penlight again. "Come on, I'm fine. I've done that move over and over."

"I still don't like how you landed this time. You got the wind knocked out of you, didn't you?" He clicked off the light, and she glanced at his badge, but spots in her vision obscured his name. "Do you remember what day it is?"

"Listen here," she squinted again, trying to blink away the spots. " _Roger_ , I'm fine. I'm an old hat at this."

"I wouldn't call twenty-five old hat. How many stunt doubles do you meet that are over forty, hm? There's a reason for that."

Sarah smirked, but let herself be checked over by the paramedic. When he concluded that she was okay, she rolled off the mattress and practically skipped down the construction stairs to the snack table. A mini-fridge full of water bottles sat atop the table, next to one stocked with juice and kombucha. She snapped the seal on one of the waters and downed it all at once. Wiping her mouth with her sleeve, she looked around the set, which was a bustle of activity.

Her eyes snagged on the three brutish looking men who she'd just shot the scene with and ambled over to say hello. But as she neared them, their backs to her, she caught some of their conversations.

"—saying she's an amateur. She didn't pull her punches. I may have to file a complaint with the union."

A chill ran down her spine, and she backed up a few steps. Had she hit him that hard? She couldn't lose her status in the union—people would stop hiring her. The fight was supposed to look real, but she _had_ only been doing this for a few years, despite her earlier flippancy about being an old hat.

Old hat meant she had done stunts for commercials over the years, but this was only her second major production—and she was the stunt double for _Vivian Rice_.

Vivian was as hot as they came in Hollywood. She was only twenty, still famously attending UCLA, and had made box office records when she landed the lead role alongside A-lister Blake Cooper in last summer's blockbuster—Drop Beat. Sarah had come in halfway through filming Drop Beat when Vivian's old body double injured herself too much to continue filming. And it was only because Frederick, her former roommate, had been the second cameraman that her name had even been put forward for consideration.

It had been a whirlwind for Sarah after that. Drop Beat netted her a cool fifty thousand dollars, enough to pay off the last of her student debt from the unfinished theater major. Pay that off and have a sizable chunk left over. A few commercials came between that movie and this one, and once again, she had been able to negotiate a tidy sum for four months of her time as Rice's double. Now, she had moved to a two-bedroom bungalow only a mile off Venice Beach, close enough to hear the crashing of the surf through her open bedroom windows at night.

Her agent lauded her as a success, but Sarah still felt like an imposter. Almost everyone she spoke to had been in the industry longer than her. A decade seemed to be the standard. The only time she worked with people at her level was when she did advertisements.

Sarah sighed and slumped against one of the support beams that littered the warehouse. Despite the air conditioning, studio lights and the unrelenting beat of the sun on the metal roof kept the interior at least eighty degrees. She swiped at some budding sweat on her forehead and glanced around. Vivian was not on set today, and sadly she was the only one with whom Sarah regularly conversed. They still had another scene to shoot before the day was over.

Closing her eyes, Sarah took a deep breath. She knew what she had to do.

It only took a minute to get back to the group, and when Sarah tapped the much taller man on the shoulder, he turned with a smile that flashed into a grimace before the smile was back on. Fake, this time. "Hey, uh, Williams, right?"

"Yeah. Williams, or you can call me Sarah. I'm sorry, I forgot your name."

"Alex," he said, reaching out a hand.

She took it, giving it a brief shake. Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed that Alex's friends and fellow Big Guys were standing a little back, but well within hearing distance of their conversation, pretending full attention on their phones. "I wanted to come over and apologize. I think I got you a little too hard with the punches at the end. Adrenaline, I think."

Alex's face relaxed into a genuine smile. He had a nice one. "No worries. You just—" he chuckled and scratched the back of his head, looking sheepish. "I couldn't feel my arm for a couple of minutes."

She had gone for him before, when they had practiced the scene, but always with fake blows, the punches landing like gentle taps. "I, uh, got caught up in the moment. What can I do to make it up to you?"

Alex raised both his hands palm out. "You don't owe me anything, but—" that sheepish look was back, and he glanced over his shoulder at his buddies. Lowering his voice, he asked, "Would you like to go to dinner with me sometime?"

Sarah grinned. _This is an unexpected turn._ Unexpected but not unpleasant. "Sure. Maybe after shooting wraps up in two weeks?" It was their portion of the movie that would finalize in two weeks—the rest would take another two months to shoot, and they could be recalled at any time during that period. If they went out after two weeks, however, she could avoid _officially_ 'dating a coworker.' And she could avoid any awkward moments if the date ended up being a flop.

She had learned her lesson the hard way in that regard.

Alex looked pleased, running a hand through his slicked-back dark hair. "Awesome. That's awesome."

They made plans to meet at _Chez Lion_ the night after shooting completed. The wrap party would provide another opportunity for them to hang out in a more unofficial capacity.

But, as always, when she made these sort of plans, something inside of Sarah balked. Dreams and memories vied for dominance in her mind as she recalled the mismatched eyes that haunted her still.

Deep in thought, Sarah hardly noticed as the stagehands ushered them toward the next set-piece. It wasn't until they called for quiet on set that she snapped out of it. Alex grinned at her, and she smiled back, readying herself for the next scene.

She pushed thoughts of other smiles, other men, out of her mind.

####

Sarah walked Monster through the neighborhood. It was late enough at night that the tourists were gone. Monster barked at a few other dogs, puffing himself up to his full sixteen pounds—about average for a Pomsky. She had never known what a Pomsky was, until Monster. He had all the markings of a husky—just in a much smaller, fluffier package. A Pomeranian-style package.

And he was a hell dog.

Vivian had gifted him to Sarah at the wrap of Drop Beat. Sarah had never wanted a dog, but as soon as Monster was placed in her arms with his baby blue bow tied to his collar, she could not resist. But those big eyes and cute, fuzzy body were a trap. By the time Sarah had committed to keeping him, Monster was just starting to show his true colors.

Sarah was on her third couch in the last six months. Crating Monster while she was out of the house was fine, but he could do an absurd amount of damage to her furniture in the short time it took her to take a shower or cook her dinner. She was currently training him to follow her into the bathroom and the kitchen when she performed these duties, but that had a whole other unintended side effect.

Monster, despite the best food money could buy, passed gas like he was in some sort of competition.

As though he heard her thoughts, Monster let out another peeling bark at the Great Dane across the street and let out a soft _toot_ at the same time. Sarah rolled her eyes. "Come on, you damn dog," she muttered, pulling on his harness to drag him away from the canine ten times his size.

They rounded the corner of Sarah's new block, and her steps lightened as they walked toward her garden gate. Her two-seater smart car sat parked in the street, and as she swung her gate open, the reason for her lack of driveway became readily apparent.

The bungalow's front and side yard was an explosion of color. Hues of green, primarily, but amongst the thick leaves were blooms of the deepest red and brightest yellows. There were several varieties of Heliconia among the flowers, Hawaiian red ginger, elephant ear, palm, a large Plumeria tree with yellow and white blossoms, and crawling vines of bougainvillea covered the high privacy fence and further surrounded the space.

Sarah looked around with an eagerness not typically found in gardeners, unhooking Monster's leash from his harness so he could bound off into the low bushes and ferns. For all the destruction the dog was capable of when inside the house, he never touched the garden. But Sarah thought he probably _couldn't_ touch the garden.

When Sarah had moved in three months before, none of the mature plants had been here. Neighbors assumed she had hired one of the many landscaping companies in the L.A. area to come and install the blooms, but she'd done nothing of the sort. Everything had just—appeared.

Looking around now, Sarah spotted a new plant that hadn't been there before the walk. She approached it—just off the corner of her front porch—and bent down to inhale the heady, tropical scent, smiling.

This was not the first time that Sarah had encountered the extraordinary and the unexplainable. Even though the scent was nothing that she had found in the Labyrinth, she could not help but picture the place in her mind as she straightened and cast her gaze around the shaded garden once more. Something about this screamed of magic unless someone was sneaking into her yard and planting fully mature trees in the dead of night. Considering her security cameras had never picked up any movement, she threw that theory out the window.

No, this was magic. _Real_ magic, not the flashy fake stuff they did for Hollywood movies.

Sarah had done her research on some of these plants. Many of them were never supposed to bloom in the Southern California climate. Yet here they were.

Looking around, Sarah once more hoped to catch a glimpse of whoever—whatever—may be responsible for this. She felt as though eyes were upon her, watching, and while the sensation should have frightened her, instead it gave a sense of _home_.

"Thank you," she said out loud. "The new flowers are beautiful."

She was not sure if anyone could hear her, but she had the feeling they might.

Whistling for Monster, Sarah led him into the house, closing the security door behind her with a decided click of the lock. Whatever was out there, she still was not going to take unnecessary risks. She felt the presence was benevolent, but she had been wrong before.

####

Under one of the more massive ferns in the front yard, Hoggle's orb-like eyes watched Sarah retreat into the house with her fluffy monstrosity in tow. He smirked, face still red from her thanks a few moments ago, and turned on his heel to pop back into the underground.

The crevice he appeared in was worked into a cliffside just outside the Labyrinth's towering walls. Hoggle had discovered the area while tending to the plants and pests some years ago after Sarah's mirror stopped working. As he squeezed out of the split in the stone, the musky animal smell of Ludo reached his keen nose, which was good. He was Hoggle's lookout. If the huge shaggy beast was gone, it meant someone had been poking around. That, or he had been distracted by some rocks. Ludo was _always_ getting distracted by rocks.

"No sign o' trouble?" Hoggle growled as he slid out of the crevice.

Ludo turned his big horned head toward Hoggle, slumping down a little to see him properly. "No. No trouble," he said in his rumbling voice. "Hungry."

"Let's get you something to eat, then. The melons should be coming in." Hoggle ambled off in the direction of his garden patch, Ludo trundling along behind him.

Unseen, deep in shadows behind them, movement flickered, and sunlight gleamed off a perfectly spherical orb.

####

Sarah settled back on her lawn chair with a glass of wine and a book open on her lap. The yellow glow of her porch light illuminated the pages of her book.

Shooting for the movie wrapped up the night before, and she had just returned from _Chez Lion._ Alex had been sweet but boring. While she had assumed that their conversation revolving around work would eventually morph into one of mutual interests, they never got there. Alex's obsession was his career, and she just—did not find that particularly engaging.

It had also made her feel like the odd one out on the movie set. So much so that she had decided to take the next week off to recuperate and reassess. Vivian was pleased with her work—was talking about hiring Sarah directly to work with her on all future films—and Sarah liked working with her. But something felt—wrong.

Sighing and readjusting her chair, Sarah tried to focus on the novel once more, but her thoughts were all in a tumble. The heady perfume of the exotic blooms in her garden also seemed almost too much this evening.

She had just made up her mind to go inside and grab Monster to go for a walk when she heard a distinct rustle from the Plumeria tree, and her gaze snapped to the area. Seeing nothing but deep shadows for a moment, Sarah almost jumped out of her skin when something moved within the darkness, and she caught the gleam of what looked like glass in the low light.

"Who's there?" She called, standing up—the book tumbling from her lap and her wine forgotten on the little side table.

"Well—" Sarah shuddered, and her heart began to pound. She would recognize that voice anywhere. "Well, well, what have we here?"

Jareth, the Goblin King, slid from the shadows with a liquid grace she had never seen on another human, but she'd seen it before with him. Boots were visible first, and then his legs, torso, arms, and finally, his face. He wore the same clothes he had been in when she had first seen him in her father and Karen's bedroom back home in Massachusetts. Mismatched eyes gleamed, one dark and one light, and the smile he flashed was so sharp she felt like it cut straight to the core of her.

She was in a fighting stance before she could think about it, her body responding to her rising adrenaline and the need to protect herself. Or to run.

But she had never been one to run.

"What are you doing here? What do you want?" She was glad to hear her voice come out strong.

A chuckle. "So it is you who is to question me, little thief?"

Sarah's brow furrowed. "Thief?"

"Thief," he repeated, his voice like honey. She gave an involuntary shudder, and that sharp smile was back on his face. Wider, even. "You've stolen from the very heart of my kingdom, and I am here to demand retribution."

Sarah blinked. "I've stolen nothing from you. I haven't been to the Labyrinth since I got Toby back." Something in her chest tightened. "You haven't gone after Toby, have you?"

"No," he said, sliding a step closer. "My only purpose in the aboveground is _you_."

"Stay back," she said, her voice quavering. In her mind, she was fifteen again, and he was the most frightening thing she had ever encountered. Also the most beguiling. "I'm warning you."

"Warning me?" His expression hardened. "Bold words from a thief."

She had the urge to stamp her foot, and heat bloomed in her face. "I'm not a thief."

Jareth moved closer, and when she tried to back up her way was blocked by the chair. He was too close. She raised her arms, readying herself. His gaze flicked over her form, amusement riding his next words. "You stand in a garden steeped in stolen magic," he said. "And you threaten me?"

Soon he was going to be so close that she was going to be at a disadvantage. He already blocked the path between her little reading spot and the front door. "I _promise_ you that if you come any closer, I'll be forced to defend myself."

Jareth scowled. "The Champion of the Labyrinth thinks that she can go toe to toe with me? I'm the Goblin King, _girl_." And he took another step.

Sarah punched him in the throat.


	2. Part Two

Author Note:

Lemons in this part, you have been forewarned!

Part three, the finale, will be released Friday. I hope you enjoy your update and thank you to everyone who commented. I adore hearing from you all.

Cheers,

- _CS_

##Part 2##

Jareth jerked back, magic welling in response to the sudden pain, but before he could do more than blink, Sarah was moving. Darting around him, she fled up the short path to her front steps and practically flew through her doors, locks slamming behind her. He smirked, rubbing his neck, and cleared his throat. Magic still seemed to blister his skin, but he ignored the discomfort as he examined the little house with its cheerful glowing windows.

Power eddied around his feet, the grounds around Sarah's abode practically saturated with the stuff. All of it smelled of the Labyrinth. His lip curled, and he willed himself into her dwelling.

Sarah screeched and lobbed a book at his head the moment he appeared in her living room. He caught it one-handed, his predatorial gaze falling on the girl who had bested him a decade before.

 _Woman_ , he thought, his eyes flickering down her form. Those green eyes were no longer innocent, and she had filled out, coming into her own.

Sarah lifted her fists again, and her legs widened into a fighting stance, grounding her. Jareth had seen and participated in enough training lessons with his elite guard to recognize a warrior when he saw one. "So," he said, canting his head to the side and tossing the book to the floor. "Someone has been teaching you how to fend for yourself."

"I taught myself," she said with a lift of her pointed chin. "I'm not weak like I was."

"Weak? You were never weak," he purred, taking a step toward her. She had her back to some bookcases, and he had appeared some ten feet away near her couch. "What were the words? For my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom is as great?"

Sarah bared her teeth. "Then what are you doing here?"

"I told you. You stole from me. I demand recompense."

"And I told _you_ that I didn't steal anything. What are you talking about?"

When Jareth took another step, she backed up, knocking into the bookcase. It wobbled, but she stayed put, staring him down. His skin prickled with her nearness. They had not been so close since their final confrontation. "Your grounds, the gardens," he said. "The magic keeping those plants alive is stolen from my kingdom."

"Everything just appeared!" Sarah cried. "I didn't plant any of it—I didn't _steal_ anything."

"Ah, but you knew, Sarah precious."

She flinched at that last, and he moved closer. Not quite within striking distance, but enough that when her eyes found his, they became flat and hard. "Don't come any closer."

"Or you'll strike me again?"

"Yes."

Jareth smirked. "That was a lucky shot. I had not expected true aggression from you, Champion of the Labyrinth, but you will never catch me unawares again."

Sarah sidled away from him, but he only followed her, still keeping at enough of a distance that she could not reach for him. His blood sang as she fled from him, igniting something more primal than what he had been anticipating for this meeting. He drew in a deep lungful of air, scenting her—Jasmine and almonds, and, yes, magic.

"Thief," he crooned. "What to do with you?"

"You have no power over me, Jareth; I thought we established that."

He blinked at the words, and then his smile grew as nothing gripped him. No sense of loss. No crushing failure. Those words may have freed her and her squalling brother ten years ago, but they would do nothing to help her here. His smile widened into a grin. "That may have worked once, precious, but you will have to find new right words."

Sarah's eyes widened, and he closed more of the gap between them.

He was ready when her fist came flying this time, capturing it in one of his gloved hands. She swung with her other side, and he caught that one as well, but before he could pin her, she was twisting hard, and he was forced to release her.

Sarah danced back a few steps and raised her arms again, looking determined. "I'm not some fifteen-year-old girl you can bully anymore, Jareth. And I don't accept that this stolen magic is my fault."

"You took it, did you not? And where does magic come from, Sarah? Your world? No." He pursued her, and she retreated. "You knew that this magic came from the Labyrinth, and you did nothing. You even let it grow."

"S-so, what?" Sarah spluttered. "I was supposed to call for you when I discovered it was magic?"

"Yes," he said, his voice now something between a growl and a purr. "When your dog steals your neighbors chicken, do you keep the chicken? No. The chicken does not belong to you."

His words must have meant something to her, for she cast her gaze around the room with a sudden intensity. "Where's Monster?" She narrowed her eyes. "What have you done to my dog?"

"Your little— _creature_ —is asleep on your bed. I couldn't very well have him interrupting this now, could I?" He had a brief run-in with the runt when he had first stepped foot on Sarah's property some hours ago, but the yapping menace was nothing Jareth couldn't handle. He ruled goblins for pity's sake.

"Interrupting _what_? Gods damn it. What do you want?"

Jareth tilted his head, regarding her with a smile sharp as a blade. When next he stepped into her space, he was ready, blocking her sudden attack, sliding away from her punches, his cape fluttering as he slid around her, grasping her around the waist and the throat, pulling her back flush against his front. Even through the leather of his gloves, he could feel her pulse racing. She struggled, pulling at his arms and trying to drop so that he was forced to let her go once more, but he held on, tightening his grip.

Sarah gasped as his fingers tightened on her neck. "You're going to kill me?" She spat. "Is that it?"

"No, precious," he said, his lips lowering to her ear. That scent of jasmine and almonds was stronger now, and with a growl, he closed his teeth on her earlobe, sucking it into his mouth. Sarah went quite still, but he felt it when her heartbeat sped up even more. He released her ear and then whispered, "If you think you can best me, you will have to try harder than that."

He released her, and she fell a step forward before whirling, fists flying.

Jareth dodged, laughing as she continued to come at him, occasionally swiping at him with her feet. When she overextended herself, he caught her before she could crash into the back of the couch, gripping her neck once more and forcing her to look up at him. His leather-clad fingers dimpled the skin of her cheeks. "Harder," he whispered just inches from her lips. "Or do you concede defeat?" His gaze flickered down to her mouth, to those lips that were parting _just so_.

In response, Sarah yanked out of his grip, panting, then launched herself at him once more.

####

Sarah did not know how long the fight went on, only that she was fighting for everything she was worth. What she had said to Jareth was right, she had taught herself by and large. She had taken a lesson here and there from a senpai or sensei in one martial form or another, but that was often to brush up on stylistic choices for certain scenes she was shooting. Nothing serious.

But this? This was different.

Forgoing any flashy moves, Sarah went straight for Jareth, trying to get past his slippery defenses while he laughed. _Laughed._

That ignited a rage in her that she poured into her tiring body, and her next blow landed. Though, once it did, she danced back, shaking her fist as her knuckles smarted. She had struck him in the side of his abdomen, but the armor he wore was like steel. Anytime she went for his face, he was too quick to block.

Breathing hard, Sarah tossed her long hair out of her face and raised her fists once more.

"Sarah, this is getting tiresome. You can't win."

"It's hard to win against an armored opponent," she snapped.

Jareth threw back his head in another peel of laughter, then snapped his fingers. Before she could blink, his imposing goblin armor was replaced with a flowing white shirt, black leather vest, grey breeches, and knee-high black boots. His pendant swung against bare skin, and she watched it, something rising in her that she did not want to name. "Better?" He asked.

In response, Sarah came at him again. This time, when she saw her opening and darted in, Jareth was waiting like a spider in a web. He caught her wrists, one then the next, in one of his large hands and yanked her up against him. "Stop it!" She cried. "Let me go."

"Do you _really_ want that, Sarah?" He murmured, his voice so low and sensual that she shivered, her toes curling. She was not a little girl anymore. She knew what those heated looks meant. "I think we both know…" he trailed off, his free hand brushing her sides—the curve of her hip. One hand still grasping both her wrists; he used the other to guide her closer. His breath was on her face, and she was reminded of the ballroom again. His hand on her back, gliding across the floor as though they danced that dance hundreds of times before.

Sarah wavered, torn between the desire to rip herself free, or to step closer. Something about him was so enticing—like a dream come to life. _Look what I'm offering you—your dreams._

"Sarah—" he said, his words carrying a warning. "That look in your eyes says it all."

Her lips parted. "W-what look?"

Jareth's grip had loosened on her wrists. Enough that she thought she might pull away. His free hand cupped her face, and suddenly she found herself struck with her position. Alone. A powerful and beautiful man before her, holding her with a tenderness that she did not anticipate. Her heart started up a gallop again for an entirely different reason—not one born from fear or adrenaline.

"Jareth?" She asked.

His mismatched eyes bored into hers. Instead of answering, he closed the short distance between them and pressed his mouth against hers.

Sarah could not say she was shocked by the motion, exactly. A part of her had been waiting in greedy anticipation for this moment, and that part took over. Heart still racing, Sarah kissed him back heartily, licking the seam of his lips until he opened his mouth. Tasting him was nothing that she could have anticipated. He tasted as her garden smelled. Wild and tropical. Heady with magic.

Somehow her hands were on his shoulders; fingers curled into his shirt while he explored her body. He was not subtle about it, either. When he lifted her shirt, angling upward, she encouraged the motion, pulling back enough that Jareth's warm hand could cup her breast, thumb finding her peaked nipple and giving it a subtle swirl.

Sarah pulled back from the kiss with a gasp, and his hand fell away. They stared at each other, the air seeming to spark between them. She licked her lips. They tingled. "This is what you want?" She asked, her voice low and husky and not at all like herself.

Jareth closed the space between them, his body a line of heat that seared her skin. She could swear she felt magic radiating from him. As though he were made of the stuff. "It would be one way to pay back what you owe," he said, his voice deliberate and low.

"I'm not a whore," Sarah said, though she did not move back. He held her not with his arms but with his eyes, pinning her. "I won't sleep with you to pay off a debt."

"Oh, Sarah," he breathed, tracing a gloved finger down her arm. "There must be a balance."

She licked her lips. "What else? What else do you want?"

"Hm," he made a show of thinking about it. "I am not unreasonable. Return what you received, and we will consider this matter settled between us. Now," he cupped her chin. "Isn't that generous?"

Sarah chewed her words. Her breathing sped up the longer he gazed at her, and the world seemed to narrow down to those mismatched eyes. Blue like the water trapped deep within glaciers, brown as soft leather which bound a precious book. "What do I have to do to give it back?"

"Say your right words, precious," he murmured, his thumb tracing circles along her jaw.

"I wish—" she hesitated for a moment, a gleam in Jareth's eyes that she had seen before. It was an intensity that scared her. She swallowed hard, pulse still racing. "I wish the magic in the garden would return to the Labyrinth."

"There," he said, his voice like a sigh. "That was simple enough, wasn't it?" His hand slid along the line of her jaw, plunging into her hair and gripping it tightly. "Was that your only wish, Sarah?"

She started to shake her head, but he held her tight. One of her hands traced the dip of his shirt, following it to where his pendant rested mid-chest. Jareth seemed to tense as she touched him, his jaw tight, and that intensity back in his eyes.

Dreams aplenty had featured him over the years, and the events of those dreams seemed to come rushing back to her. Her body flooded with warmth. The slow, secretive smile that Jareth granted her made her wonder if he was somehow reading her mind.

"I—" Sarah gasped as his grip tightened on her hair, pulling her head back further. A part of her still wanted to pull away, to strike him, but more and more, her rising desire made that part of her shrink into the back recesses of her mind. "I wish—" his lips descended on her throat, nipping and biting. She moaned.

"What do you wish for, Sarah?" He whispered, his breath hot against her skin. "Tell me your dreams."

Her eyes slipped closed. The next words she spoke were soft as a breath. "I wish you would fuck me. Right now."

Jareth chuckled, and for a moment she was seized with fear of refusal, but then his hand was on her breast, over her shirt, and he was pressing her back, back, until she hit the wall with a soft _thunk_. A whimper fell from her lips before she could stop it, and the grin he flashed her was one of such intense self-satisfaction that she almost pushed him away, but then his mouth was hot on hers once more.

They both sucked in a lungful of air the moment before their lips met, and then Sarah could not be sure whether she breathed in his breath or not, every inhale sweet as sin as his tongue met hers. Tasting. Warring. They broke apart long enough for Jareth to lift her shirt off before they came together again.

Sarah lost herself in the kiss, fingers plunging into his soft hair—softer than down feathers—her body grinding against his.

His hands went to her backside, cupping her ass with a growl, his teeth scraping her bottom lip. "I have wanted this so long," he murmured, lips traveling the line of her jaw. "My adversary. The Champion of the Labyrinth. Mine."

She opened her mouth to tell him that she wasn't his when he bit her shoulder, and all that fell from her lips was a shuddering moan. She caught one of his hands as it traveled down her front. "Gloves off," she gasped. "I want to feel you."

"You take them off, precious," he whispered, still kissing along her collarbone.

Sarah did, one and then the other, and when his bare fingers curled around hers, she felt a zing like an electric shock pulse through her, further igniting her core. "What was that?"

Jareth laughed, unhooking her bra and sliding it from her shoulders. Every brush of his bare fingertips against her skin made her jump as little pulses of energy leaped to her. "Did you think my touch would be the same as a mortal man? Let me show you where our similarities end."

His hand plunged under the waistband of her loose pants, and before Sarah could suck in a breath, he was sliding a finger between her folds, testing the wetness he found there before crooking a finger within her. That strange power pulsed again, in time to her heartbeat, and Sarah's knees buckled with the sensation. Jareth caught her around the waist with his free hand, a low growl rumbling from his chest. He covered her mouth with his, sucking her lower lip between his teeth as one finger was joined with another.

It was as though he had connected a wire between her clitoris and his fingers. Even though he did not touch it directly, it throbbed in time with those little pushes of power. It was like fingers and tongue were on her all at once, and she groaned, ripping the fastenings on his vest and yanking the billowy shirt out of his breeches. " _Ah_ , gods," she breathed. "Jareth, you're going to make me—" her words stopped as she crested, clinging to him while her cries rose around them until his lips and tongue drank down those noises.

He pulled his hand away, and she was too caught up in the moment to be embarrassed when he slid two glistening fingers into his mouth. His eyes closed for a moment before he slowly withdrew those fingers, making a little hum of appreciation. "You taste divine," he whispered. "Better than I hoped."

Her voice was breathy and laced with the warm glow of her orgasm. "You've hoped for this?"

The look he leveled at her made her flush from her chest to her forehead. "Haven't you?"

Sarah nodded. "All the time." She never thought she would be admitting it out loud—especially not to the focus of her frequent daydreams, yet she could think of no reason to demure. This moment—a moment she could have scarcely _dreamed_ of mere hours before—was something significant. She could feel it. Like magic in the air, but _more_.

Jareth's kiss was hard and quick. "Sarah," he rasped, pressing the entire length of his body against her. She could feel the bulge where his desire was evident, low against her belly. She writhed against that sensation, and he let out a hiss of breath. "Stop trying to undo me," he said, so low and soft that she almost missed it.

In response, Sarah took off his shirt and vest, letting them fall to the floor. Her hands flew to the waistband of his pants, but he grasped her hands, shaking his head as he pulled her away. "I want to touch you," she said, shocked at how pleading her tone had become. "Please."

"Not yet, Sarah precious," he said. "Turn around."

She did without hesitation, hands up to rest on the wall by her head. She felt vaguely like she was under arrest. The feeling did not abate as he slid his hands down her bare torso as though he were searching for weapons, his hands making slow work of exploring the curve of her spine and the flare of her hips. Then he hooked his thumbs in the band of her pants and pulled them down so she could step out of them. And for the first time, she was completely bare in front of him.

Sarah could not see what he was doing behind her, but he did not touch her for the longest time—long enough that she began to push off from the wall when his voice stopped her. "No. Let me look at you."

She went still and then relaxed back into position. Jareth had sounded almost—strangled. As though he were feeling something quite strongly but could not express it.

He brushed her hair forward so that the bulk of it fell over her right shoulder. Then his fingertips grazed the hollow of her lower back, and her skin jumped at the sudden sensation. " _Sh_ ," he hushed. "Steady, Champion." His finger drew down over the crack of her ass before dipping down into the core of her. Sarah bucked at that, and his fingers slipped inside, swirling over her clit and making her moan. "You're trembling."

"You're touching me just—" she gasped. "Just _there_."

He laid an open-mouthed, hot kiss on the left side of her neck, then withdrew his hand only so he could snake it down her front, the access easier from this angle. He rubbed at the bud of her pleasure, and she shivered, eyes falling closed as his body pressed against her back. He fit like he had been made to be there. And then she realized that the hard length that pressed against her backside was _bare_ , hot, and heavy. He had divested himself of his clothes while keeping her like this, face pressed against the wall so she could see nothing but faint movement out of the corner of her eye.

She could not see him, but she could _feel_ him, and he felt large. Larger than anyone she'd been with before. His fingers kept up their swirling, pressing motion against her, and as she neared her peak again, she felt him begin to nudge between her thighs. "Oh, gods," she moaned. " _Yes_. Jareth—"

Two things happened simultaneously. His pulsing, warm fingers brought her to orgasm once more, and he began to push his enormous length into her. He moved slowly, waiting for her body to adapt to his girth before pushing forward even more.

Sarah could not seem to suck in enough air. Her nails scrabbled against the wallpaper until Jareth's hands came down on top of hers, pinning her in place. Part of her could not believe this was happening. She had been trying to strike him just half an hour ago. Now? Gods, _now_ …

She was already filled past any point she had experienced before, but still, he pressed into her. She squirmed, and his breath came out short. Then he was in to the hilt. Together, they sighed. And when he spoke, his voice was almost animalistic in its intensity. "Are you ready, Sarah? Ready for me to fuck you?"

She almost came right there from his words and the _full_ feel of him. Still trembling, she looked over her shoulder, trying to glimpse more than his fuzzy outline. "Yes, Jareth, _please_ —"

He did not wait for her to finish. He withdrew until he was almost out of her, then thrust back in with enough force that she cried out. And then he unleashed, pounding into her so hard that she felt she was going to come apart in the most delicious of ways. Sounds fell from her lips like fervent prayers, and when his fingers laced through hers, she gripped him tight.

Nothing had ever been like this. With each movement, he seemed to pulse, and that pulse alighted through her entire body. In every sense of the word, she felt as though he marked her, that weight inside deeper and more significant than it had ever been before. She could smell magic strong in the air.

He stopped and pulled out. Sarah whimpered at the sudden loss, but he only took her by the hand and brought her, stumbling, to the couch. He sat down and pulled her astride him, and she relished the moment they joined again and how she could look into his eyes. There was something in his expression there that she could not name, but it made her want to kiss him, and so she did.

Their tongues mimicked the thrusting motion of their bodies, and Sarah found all the sensations heightened. She traced the outline of his amulet as she rode him. Her body felt overly sensitive, his every breath and every puff of air like fingers tracing along her skin. His hands gripped her hips, helping guide her movements, while her nails scraped along his scalp, pulling his head back so that she could deepen their kiss.

He growled and, keeping himself sheathed with her, flipped them so that she was lying lengthwise on the couch. He pinned back her leg while thrusting within her, his tempo losing some of its smooth rhythm as he let out a low sound.

Sarah wrapped her leg around him, angling her hips up. "Sarah," he said on a breath, eyes locking on hers. He reached between them and began to touch her. Already so full of him, his touch made her gasp and clench down. He hissed, and his thrusts became frantic, almost feral. He continued to rub her, and as she clung to his shoulders, he slammed into her once, twice, and then went still, just as an orgasm tipped her over the edge. She cried out his name before his mouth slanted over hers, his lips and tongue plundering her while his cock twitched and spasmed deep within.

There was a little aftershock of pleasure that coiled through her at that sensation, and Sarah broke the kiss, leaning her head back with a soft sigh of contentment. Never before had she felt so—sated. Sated, yet invigorated. Jareth half-collapsed atop her, his pendant pressing down between her breasts and his breath on her neck.

She wanted to do it again.


	3. Part Three

Author’s Note:

Hello again, and thank you for reading! This is the finale of The Price of a Garden. I know there are some story and world-building elements in here that I don’t expand on completely. That’s somewhat on purpose. I wanted to leave this as a gateway for further stories. I’m not committing to anything, mind you, just keeping my options open.

As in part two, part three contains lemons and some, uh… _backdoor_ activity. If you’re not into that, you may want to gloss over certain scenes.

Now that the warning is over with—thank you, thank you, _thank you_ to everyone who has reviewed! You have no idea what those reviews have meant to me. Suffice it to say I’m not in the best of places, the world feels heavy, and I treasure every one of your words.

If you like what you read here, you may like my longer-form Labyrinth fanfiction 31 Days and 32 Nights. It’s still a work in progress, but I update every four weeks or so.

Thank you again for reading and reviewing, and I hope you enjoy it.

Cheers,

_Crimson Sympathy_

##Part 3##

“What do you mean you can’t commit?” The woman screeched on the other end of the phone, so loud that Jareth could pick it up even though Sarah was across the room. Her next words were quieter, but Jareth’s exceptional hearing still caught everything. “Do you have any idea how much money you’re saying no to?”

Sarah scratched the back of her head and glanced back at Jareth, her green eyes smiling. “Yeah—I just need a break. A sabbatical. I’m a little worn out.”

After four days of rolling around in her bed, only stopping to eat and bathe, Jareth had convinced her to come to the underground. Time ran strange between their worlds, and Sarah had to put some affairs in order before she acquiesced to going.

Jareth had to return. He had a kingdom to run, no matter how chaotic it often was and, by extension, almost self-governing. But he did not want to leave her, and she did not want to leave him.

Just watching her now, his body stirred into wakefulness. He lounged naked on her couch, and Sarah only wore a satin robe, open at the front. Each tantalizing glimpse of her body was enough to make his cock twitch. He had been inside of her only ten minutes ago, but he wanted it again with a visceral _need_ that he had never experienced with another partner.

Sarah continued her phone call, reassuring her agent that she had thought long and hard about her decision. When the call ended, Jareth beckoned at her. “Come here.”

She smirked but walked his way, robe billowing away from her body as she came, silhouetting her athletic form. When he had explored her that first night, he had found bruises from her antics as a stuntwoman. Now they were all but faded, the only marks the ones he had given her with his teeth. “I need to walk Monster,” she said as she came to a stop near his knees.

Jareth reached for her, and she tossed her phone aside a moment before his fingers closed over hers. He tugged her onto his lap, running his hands up her thighs as she settled astride him. “Would you please leave that beast here?”

“Where I go, he goes,” she said, running a fingernail down the center of his chest before hooking it in the chain of his amulet. “Anyway, you two seem to be getting along fine now.”

After Jareth had removed the sleeping spell from the hound, it launched into a fit of barking he had silenced with a withering look and a push of magic. Ever since then, the dog had followed at Jareth’s heels, obedient in a way that made Sarah laugh with delight. “He’s a nuisance. The goblins might eat him.”

“You’ll make sure they won’t eat him,” she said, her breath hot against his face.

“ _Mm_ ,” he murmured, angling his head upward for a kiss. She obliged, lips smooth and incredibly soft against his own. His hands plunged into her hair, just as hers found him swollen and hard between her thighs. He sucked in a breath, and she chased that motion, plunging her tongue into his mouth. Her hand worked him until he released her hair and grasped her hips instead, lifting her so that she was angled directly above his full erection. “Say yes, my Sarah.”

“ _Yes_ ,” she moaned, helping his guiding hands until they were joined once more.

He felt like he could breathe—the oxygen in the room richer than it had been, more vibrant. Letting her set the pace, Jareth leaned back against the couch and watched her move, feeling it as her inner muscles tightened and spasmed around him as she sought her pleasure.

The first time she had orgasmed from just his cock made her practically scream in surprise. And that had opened the floodgates. Now, it seemed as though she were tuning into his body, and the more she knew it, the better the sex became. Something more than lust now shone from those green eyes.

For him, it was the same.

What had started as a desire to conquer, to reclaim, had morphed in four short days. Her gentle jibes, her rich laugh, and her coy smile were each little blows to the wall he had always kept erected around his heart. He found himself telling her everything—how it felt to be the Goblin King. The burden of responsibility. The years of near-exile from the fae court, and the work he put into rebuilding those relationships. He answered her questions about her run through the Labyrinth. He confessed all his hopes and fears from that time. She responded in kind.

Jareth’s hands slipped under the robe, fingers roaming down the curve of her spine. Sarah leaned forward to kiss him, and he responded with enthusiasm. Then his fingers trailed down the cleft of her ass, dipping down long enough to collect moisture from her dripping pussy. He ran his finger back up her backside, stopping as he reached the puckered ring of flesh he was slowly coaxing open. His single finger slid inside effortlessly, and Sarah moaned as he probed her there while still buried to the hilt within her.

He had asked, and no one had explored this particular area of Sarah’s body. Jareth was determined to lay absolute claim to it. But first, he had to get her accustomed to the feeling. He slipped a second finger inside of her, and her whole body shuddered. “More,” she whispered against his lips.

He added a third, more than he ever had before, and the groan that fell from her lips was sweeter than honey. “You’re almost ready for me,” he said, still thrusting upward while working her with his fingers. “I’m going to claim your ass, Sarah.”

She trembled, eyes slipping closed, and a moment later, he felt her clench tight around him as her orgasm ripped through her. “Oh,” she sighed. “Yes, _please_ , yes—”

He followed her soon after, releasing deep. Heart pounding, he sucked down the kiss she offered him, holding her close while he continued to spasm within her. _Gods, but she feels right, _he thought.

He was determined to keep her.

####

Hoggle, Ludo, and Sir Didymus stayed clumped together in the crowd of onlookers. Sir Didymus was perched on Ludo’s massive shoulder so that he could see over the heads of taller goblins and dwarves and other denizens of the Labyrinth.

No one could say what brought them into the courtyard before the castle at the heart of the Goblin Kingdom, but here they all were. As if by magic. And when things came together so perfectly, Hoggle knew that Jareth was at the heart of it.

They did not have much longer to wait before there was the building, pressing push of magic, and Jareth appeared on the steps before the great door of the castle.

And he was not alone.

Hoggle gaped. Beside him, Ludo had perked up, grinning wide, and Sir Didymus whooped with joy, drawing Sarah’s attention. Before Hoggle could protest, Ludo had gripped him in one massive paw and was dragging him toward his very first friend. Her, and Jareth beside her—the ruler who had been central to Hoggle’s greatest fears over the years.

He began to struggle against Ludo, trying to break the beast's grip. He might as well have been trying to fight the slow, inexorable march of a glacier with nothing but a spade. “Argh!” He cried. “Get off me!”

“My lady!” Sir Didymus called as they drew closer. He leaped from Ludo’s shoulders and dashed toward Sarah, who was laughing, sinking to her knees on the flagstones so she could be at a height with the little knight. “My lady,” he repeated as Ludo dragged them closer. “You have returned! But pray tell, why with—with _him_?”

Hoggle wanted to know the same thing and stopped struggling as they all came to stand next to Sarah. The goblins at their back were muttering and talking excitedly.

“Is that _her_?”

“Is it?”

“Is who what?”

“That’s the Champion!”

“She’s back!”

“Who’s back?”

“Is she going to destroy the city again?”

Hoggle rolled his eyes, then renewed his efforts to tear out of Ludo’s grip as he saw Jareth walking toward their group holding— _is that Sarah’s dog?_ Hoggle thought, even more bewildered. He had a few run-ins with the creature while he was tending to Sarah’s garden, but a little bribery had gone a long way—a combination of treats and captured fairies that the canine chased about the yard until snapping them up in his small sharp teeth. But what was he doing _here_?

Jareth stopped a respectable distance from the group, eyes all for Sarah. Hoggle saw something there that gave him pause, but before he could determine what it was he was seeing, Sarah was hugging him.

“Hoggle, it’s so good to see you,” she said, standing after a moment so she could give Ludo a similar embrace. “Hi, Ludo.”

“Hello Sarah,” Ludo said in his gravelly voice. “Sarah, back?”

“Yes, I’m back,” she said with a laugh. “For a visit.” She glanced over her shoulder, beaming at Jareth in a way that made Hoggle’s stomach queasy. “About a week, maybe more.” 

“Hold on a minute,” Hoggle yelled, causing Sarah to jerk her head back to him with a frown. “ _Why_ are you back, and why is you back with _him_?” He gestured at Jareth, who smirked—undoubtedly, he had heard.

Behind them, the goblins murmured and chatted again, and Hoggle caught snippets of their conversation.

“Why is she back?”

“Is who back?”

“The girl!”

“Which girl?”

“The girl who wished away her brother and ran the Labyrinth and ate the peach and forgot everything and destroyed the city and stormed the castle.”

There was a pause.

“I don’t remember her.”

Hoggle slapped a hand to his forehead, wishing that they were alone. With hundreds of goblins and dwarves and such at their back and Jareth watching, he felt like he was going to be sick with frustration. He wanted to _talk_ to Sarah.

A hand fell on his shoulder, and Hoggle looked up to see Jareth standing over him. His knees knocked together even as the Goblin King flashed him a smile. “I have an announcement to make, and then we can get you all greater privacy for your reunion.” Without ceremony, he dumped the fluffy, surprisingly calm dog into Hoggle’s arms before encircling Sarah’s waist with one arm and pulling her around to look out over his citizens. The casual way he touched her—and the way Sarah _let_ him—made that queasy feeling come back over Hoggle in full force.

Hoggle didn’t hear the words that Jareth spoke, though he caught the meaning well enough. The Goblin King had returned with the Champion in tow. She was to be an emissary from Earth, an honored guest, and under no circumstances was her dog to be considered for a meal or a snack. Monster, the dog in question, whined a little as dozens of yellow goblin eyes trained on him, greedy and hungry despite their master's warnings. Hoggle held the dog a little tighter, turning his body away as though to shield the creature.

Soon Jareth dispersed the crowd, then lead the old band of friends into the castle. The doors opened on silent hinges without touch or word, but then again, the Labyrinth and the Goblin City had always obeyed Jareth’s commands.

Once inside, Hoggle released the dog, who went running out of the throne room after a chicken. The chicken squawked, and loose feathers floated down out of the air.

Hoggle and Sir Didymus started talking at once.

“Pray tell, fair lady—”

“What the heck are you doing _back here_ with—”

“—our king, Jareth? Surely you would not—”

“—into the _bog_ , Sarah. You remember’s the bog, don’t you?”

“—please illuminate us.”

Sarah blinked a few times, looking between her two friends and then Ludo. “Well…” she trailed off for a moment, twisting her fingers together in front of her. “So the thing is, Labyrinth magic found its way into my garden, and that attracted Jareth’s attention. We got to talking and, well—” she swallowed hard, then smiled at each of them. “Oh, I know it’s strange, but we—reconciled.”

“Reconciled _how_?” Hoggle demanded.

“A lady needn’t kiss and tell,” Jareth drawled, coming to stand by Sarah’s side. His arm went around her waist, the motion possessive as he glared down at the dwarf. “We are no longer enemies. That should please you.”

Hoggle’s stomach sank. Labyrinth magic, in Sarah’s world? In her garden?

That meant this was him. This was all his fault. He had brought the plants into life in her garden—it was supposed to have been a _present_ , damn it!

He felt the blood drain from his face, and he backed up a step, shaking his head. “I can’t believe it. He _stole_ your brother, Sarah. We’s all helped you get him back.”

“I wished my brother away,” Sarah said, her voice gentle in a way it hadn’t been ten years before. “And I appreciate everything you have all done for me. I will never forget any of that. But Jareth—” she glanced at the fae in question and smiled. “We don’t see each other the way we used to and I—I like him.”

Sir Didymus let out a huff of breath, but before he could say anything, Ludo boomed out, “Jareth _friend_?”

Jareth took a half step back, glancing at the beast with a mixture of caution and incredulity. But then Hoggle saw Sarah squeeze his hand, and he nodded instead. “Yes, we’re—friends.”

Ludo grinned.

Hoggle and Sir Didymus exchanged looks, and then Sir Didymus drew himself up to his full height. “I swear on my life’s blood, I do not care if you are a king or not, if you dishonor my fair lady I will fight you anytime, anywhere—”

“Yes, I understand,” Jareth said, tone dry. He kissed Sarah on the temple. “I’m going to make sure Monster didn’t find his way into the kitchens. If the cooks weren’t all outside, they might not have gotten the message that he’s off the menu.”

Sarah watched him go, and as Hoggle observed her, his chest tightened still further. She didn’t see. She had not been under the king's boot for years like he had. She had no idea what Jareth was capable of.

 _I’ll fix this_ , he thought. _I’ve got to._

Sarah turned back to them all. “Well,” she said with a smile. “We should catch up. Sir Didymus, what are you doing these days now that the bridge is gone?”

This launched the little knight into a tale of his seven-years quest and his triumphant return. Sarah listened with rapt attention. Hoggle could not deny that she seemed—fine—but he was still uneasy about the situation. And even though Sarah managed to coax him into the conversation, he remained a little detached, watching as much as listening.

If he were lucky, he would find a way to free her from whatever spell Jareth had put her under.

####

Sarah stood on the balcony overlooking the city and the Labyrinth beyond, breathing in the fresh breeze that blew in from the west, where Jareth told her the sea lay. When the wind shifted, she’d sometimes catch a whiff of livestock—chickens, mostly, their dusty scent enough to make her want to sneeze. Despite that, there was something incredible about the Labyrinth. Its high walls, curving and twisting in seemingly impossible, endless lines, contained mysteries that, Jareth confessed, even he had not unlocked.

She had her phone in hand. Remarkably and against all laws of nature and physics that she knew of, Jareth had spelled it so that the battery stayed charged, and she still had service, even a literal world away.

A chime rang out, and she glanced down to see a text from Vivian Rice.

**I just saw you’re not committing to the next movie. Are you doing okay? Is there anything I can do?**

Sarah smiled a little and wrote a quick response. **I might have met a guy.**

The text flew in. **TELL ME EVERYTHING!**

She sent Vivian the selfie she had taken next to a sleeping Jareth, his hair spilling over her pillow. He had woken up a moment later, and she had been too slow to slide the phone away before he grabbed it. Instead of being angry, he had grinned at the little screen with the photo of the two of them together. “You look beautiful. Now, come here.”

She had, and they had spent more delirious hours in each other’s arms.

Her phone pinged again. **You look happy, and he looks hot.**

 **I am happy** Sarah sent back without thinking. Then she paused and looked at the words on the screen. She _was_ happy. Incredibly so. It had been a little over a week now. What had started with a fight had been growing and growing into something _more_. Something she was trying not to categorize.

Because when it came down to it, he was a nearly-immortal fae, and she was only human.

 **Just remember not to overthink it** , came the next text. **I’m so happy for you. Keep me updated. I have to go ttfn**

Sarah sent her thanks, and a little heart emoji then slipped the phone into the front pocket of her jeans. Communication with Vivian was often like that. She was a good person, but her schedule was incredibly hectic.

Keeping her gaze on the vista before her, Sarah was so lost in thought that she almost did not hear the scrape of a boot on stone. She turned her head to see the approaching Goblin King. He wore one of her favorite outfits—an all-black ensemble that made his already predatorial grace even more seductive. _This is almost starting to get out of hand_ , she thought. _I’ve never been this—insatiable._

But she could not help but wonder—what if she had never been meant for mortal men, and their mortal passions? What if she had always been meant for him?

Jareth had been away at business for the last several hours. She had not been expecting him for several more, still, as she turned to face him, the balcony railing at her back. “You’re early.”

“I couldn’t stay away,” Jareth said, stalking toward her with a heat in his gaze that was undeniable.

Before he could reach her, Sarah danced away, keeping to the edge of the large balcony and grinning wickedly at him. “Am I that distracting?” She teased. Her earlier, darker thoughts evaporated now that she was near him once more.

“Yes,” he growled, pacing after her, his steps slow but deliberate. She skipped back still further. “What are you doing?”

Biting her lower lip, Sarah felt her muscles bunch and coil, ready to spring into action. Her heart raced. She had missed this feeling. “Making you work for it,” she said with a laugh and bolted inside.

Sarah was fast. Except for the last week of distractingly decadent pleasures, she ran most mornings—and she had never made Jareth test his true mettle against her. Except for the first night, when she had still viewed him as an adversary. An enemy.

But it was not her enemy who reached for her now, fingertips grazing the skin of her arm as she shrieked in delight and spun away. She ran through the little sitting area in Jareth’s room and around his central bed, a monstrously large thing carved out of what looked like pure bone, twisting around to see how close he was.

Jareth was on the opposite side of the bed, his chest rising and falling a little faster than usual, and something dark in his gaze. “Sarah,” he said with a low growl. “I will catch you.”

She raised a mocking eyebrow. “Will you? You’re still over there, and—”

Before she could finish speaking, he was leaping across the bed faster than a blink, his speed incredible. Sarah’s pulse picked up, and she darted away across the open space toward the bathing area before she heard his breath directly behind her, and she whirled. Dropping down, Sarah slid under outstretched arms before leaping to her feet and heading in the opposite direction. 

Jareth may have had better speed, but Sarah had trained intensely on how to outmaneuver bigger, faster, further-reaching opponents. She’d never done this, though.

Running from Jareth rode an edge between fear and exhilaration. He was fae. He had told her stories of the wild hunt in the dark of the night while she remained safe and warm in his arms. She knew that oftentimes the object of those hunts were humans like herself. Jareth had taken part. He had hunted her kind, hunted _her_ , once.

Sarah leaped behind the heavy wood-framed couch and whirled to see Jareth was only a little behind her. She gripped the back of the sofa and stared at him as he prowled closer. His eyes seemed almost black in the low light of his room, and she felt a shiver go down her spine.

He stopped on the other side of the couch, perfectly still. There was not even a faint rise or fall to his chest. It was as though someone had unplugged him.

Sarah licked her lips. “What are you going to do if you catch me?”

“ _When_ I catch you.” Lips pulled back from his teeth as he gave her a chilling smile. “I’ll do whatever I like.”

Sliding one foot back, Sarah tensed to spring away, but Jareth gave no indication on which way he would come at her. A part of her screamed to run, that here was a predator, but that dark gaze also froze her. Fear felt like hands closing over her throat, and she swallowed hard.

Jareth’s nostrils flared as he scented the air.

He moved so swiftly that she did not even catch a blur of movement. One moment he was standing on the other end of the couch. She blinked, and he was beside her. She let out a little yelp, jerking back, but he already had hold of her arms. Twisting and yanking, she dropped all her weight on him, and he released her. She rolled away as he reached for her again, leaping up with a galloping heart.

Sarah practically flew, running headlong back out to the balcony. Her hands had just touched the railing when Jareth’s wrapped around her waist from behind, and he breathed into her ear. “Got you.”

Part of her wanted to fight, still, but as his grip gentled, she found herself leaning back against the line of his body. She felt flush from the running, and she breathed hard. “Now what?”

He turned her around and grasped her chin, tilting her head back before weaving fingers into her long dark hair. In the light of the sinking sun, his eyes looked almost black. “Now, you’re mine.”

The kiss he pulled from her lips was hard, almost bruising, his teeth scraping. Still, she melted into the touch, gripping the back of his neck to keep him close. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, and she met it with her own. Small noises bubbled out of her throat as his hands began tearing at her clothes, ripping them away, so they never broke contact. Her nipples pebbled the moment the cold air touched them and were soon covered by the warmth of his gloved hands.

Sarah began undressing him in earnest as well, fingernails scraping against heated skin. A rumbling growl emanated from his chest, and she trembled in his arms as she tugged off his gloves. Then his touches snapped through her, thrumming and pulsing in time with her heartbeat—connecting every part of her body to his caress. 

They broke the kiss with a gasp, gazing at one another, Sarah’s chest heaving. Without a word, Jareth bent and grasped the back of her thighs, lifting her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, arms looped around his neck as he walked them back into his rooms. Sarah kissed the side of his throat, grazing the skin with her teeth, and the rumbling growl he produced made her smile.

Jareth lay her down on the bed, following her down to nuzzle at her collarbone, biting and murmuring words she couldn’t make out.

“What?” She gasped as he ripped at the snaps on her jeans and jerked them down her thighs.

“You are my undoing,” he said directly into her ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth. His teeth came down on the sensitive flesh, and she squirmed under him. Then he pulled away, stripping her in a few quick motions. He crawled back over her, bare from the waist up except for his pendant, which almost seemed to glow in the low light. Her hand raised to touch it, and he stopped her, bringing her palm to his mouth for a slow kiss.

Sarah wanted him so much she felt like she was going to come apart, but every attempt to touch him was met with diversions, Jareth never removing his gaze from hers. “Jareth, please,” she pleaded. “I need to feel you.”

He shook his head and dipped down to kiss her, quick and fierce, his hand pinning her wrists to the bed above her head. “You don’t know what you did to me, do you?” He asked, dragging the tip of his nose along her jaw. “You don’t know what it meant that I caught you.”

“No,” she breathed. “Tell me.”

“You challenged me, lover. Challenged my right to your body, and your heart.” He cupped her left breast as he said that last word. “I scented your fear and your excitement. I could practically taste in in the air.”

She licked her lips. “And what did you win, when you caught me?”

His eyes bored into hers. “By fae law? You. I get you, for a night, to do with as I please. To conquer as I will.”

Her entire body shuddered at his words, and hers came out with a rasp of need. “Then what are you waiting for? You have power over me now. Use it.”

A look passed over his face that she could not quite identify. Something akin to a possessive fervor. “You give it willingly?”

Sarah did not hesitate. She nodded, green eyes shining.

Jareth released her wrists, but she kept them in place as he kissed his way down her body, burying his face between her legs. When his tongue touched her just _there,_ she groaned, her body jerking as that first pulse of power thrummed through her. He gripped her thighs; eyes rolled up to hers as he lapped and sucked at that bud within her. She almost came at once, unable to resist his attentions. But just before she reached that end, he pulled back, plunging two fingers inside of her instead. The switch stalled her orgasm, and she let out a meek little whimper that seemed to satisfy him if the wide smile were any indication.

“Not fair,” she breathed.

“You’d be an expert in that, wouldn’t you, precious?” He removed his hand, and her legs shook at the sudden emptiness. Not long afterward, however, those same fingers ringed her ass. He slipped both inside with minimal effort, and Sarah sighed. He had been working on her little by little, introducing more fingers, plunging deeper, and concentrating on that area longer.

His mouth fell back to her clit, and she sucked in a breath as the dual sensations warred for dominance, until each feeling felt so wrapped up with the next that she was unsure where the pleasure originated. The room seemed to spin, and as she gasped, her orgasm came ripping through her, bowing her spine and pulling cries from her lips that echoed in the vast rooms.

Jareth withdrew from her entirely, shucking the rest of his clothes before joining her on the bed once more. He pulled her to the center, tugging her back against his front so that he could nuzzle her neck and rub his erection against her core. “Mine,” he groaned, cupping her breast and rolling a peaked nipple between his fingers. “I am going to take you utterly tonight, my Sarah. I will be where no other has been before.” With his other hand, he guided himself between the slit of her pussy, pushing in just the tip. “I want to hear my name on your lips as you come tonight. I want there to be no other thought in your head, but how this,” he pushed further into her. “Feels.”

Sarah moaned, trying to roll her hips back to meet him, but he countered the motion, controlling just how deep into her he was. He was sinking ever so slowly into her, and she writhed, clenching down on him, but he just clutched her tighter as his hips moved in slow, sure motions. “Gods,” she said on a gasp. “Oh, gods, Jareth—Jareth _please_ fuck me I can’t stand this—”

A laugh bubbled up from behind her, and his lips fell to her shoulders as he started to pull out, not speeding up one iota and keeping her in his grip, preventing her from trying to take control of the situation. She pleaded and begged, but he kept up the tortuous rhythm for what felt like forever, until her entire body was trembling, on the verge of an orgasm that she could never quite seem to reach.

“Poor thing,” he whispered, his tongue drawing a line up the side of her neck to her ear. “Should I take pity on you?”

“Please,” she whispered, all sense of herself fled. All there was, all she could feel was the delirious sensation of his power licking through her as his cock inched in and out. And then he was gone, utterly, and she almost sobbed from the emptiness. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Jareth roll away from her, grasping something on the table by the side of the bed. “What’s that?”

Jareth did not respond at first, pouring what looked like clear oil out of the colored glass bottle into his cupped palm. Then, as he began to work the slippery stuff onto his still-glistening shaft, he said, “It is for you, my Sarah. Stay right there.” He rolled back toward her, and the hand still covered in oil began to probe her bottom. Understanding dawned, and she tensed. “ _Sh_ ,” he soothed. “This should not hurt, precious. In fact,” he laid an open-mouthed kiss on her shoulder just as three fingers slipped effortlessly into her ass. She cried out, but the sensation was—perfect. “This should be immensely pleasurable.”

He continued to kiss her shoulder and neck, murmuring gentle assurances in her ear until her body utterly relaxed under his touch. When the fingers went away, she felt the press of his cock a moment later, hot and so much larger than anything she had taken before. Trembling, she looked around and caught Jareth’s eyes. There was remarkable tenderness there, and when he smiled, it was so warm that she felt her body turn nearly liquid all at once. “Please be careful,” she whispered.

He kissed her again and again, continuing to rub his cock against that tight entrance. “Breathe, Sarah.”

She did, sucking in a deep lungful of air. As she exhaled, he began to push against her. There was some mild discomfort, a little stinging, and then he popped past the tight ring of muscles and suddenly— “Oh, my gods,” she said, sucking in another deep lungful of air as her hand scrabbled to clutch something—anything. His fingers wove through hers, and he pulled her hand down to the apex of her thighs, sliding their joined fingers into her folds. “Oh, my gods,” she said again, afraid to move. Jareth had gone still the moment he had slipped inside of her, and she knew he had a long way to go yet.

“Steady, love,” he murmured, curling her fingers around her clit. His words reverberated in her head. _Love._ “Keep breathing. Nice and steady.” She did, and she could almost feel his smile. “There you go.”

She did, and gradually she relaxed, her body getting used to the weight and the girth of him. The stinging discomfort was gone now, replaced by a low throb deep within her

Jareth released her hand, and it traveled up her stomach and then to her hip. He grasped her there and then started to push his way into her.

Sarah could not seem to get enough oxygen, even as Jareth continued to remind her to _just breathe_. His words were comforting, steady, his kisses telling her that she could trust him. He wasn’t going to hurt her. “Touch yourself,” he commanded her. “I want to feel you come while I’m in your ass.”

She shuddered and did as he bid, slipping her fingers down and around her clit, circling it and pressing as he continued to work his way into her. She was full. So, incredibly full, and then his hips settled against her backside, and she knew he was inside.

He twitched, and she writhed, moaning at the new feeling. This was hotter than just his fingers had been and so incredibly deep. His teeth scraped against her shoulder, her neck. “This feels incredible,” he said. “Sarah…” he groaned. “Keep touching yourself.”

She had forgotten as soon as he was entirely within her, but now she began moving her fingers again. As soon as she did, he slid out of her. He pulled about halfway out before gliding back into her, repeating the motion a few more times, nice and slow as she shook and whimpered. The combination of her fingers and his actions was sending her over the edge, and quick. She let out a short huff of air, and her hips spasmed a bit as she crested, forcing him in and out of her at a faster rate than before. A rate that made her pant and threw her the rest of the way over the edge. “Jareth! Please don’t stop. Please. I’m coming. I’m—”

Jareth drove into her, and her gasp tore away her words. His motion had corresponded with the very peak of her orgasm, and as she rode the rest of it, he began to pick up his tempo. He swore. “You feel so good, Sarah. You’re beautiful. You’re so beautiful.”

Another orgasm began to build, even as her hand moved away from her clit and sought out his fingers, gripping him tight over where he held onto her hip. Her entire body felt like a lightning rod. Each thrust felt like another strike, only instead of pain, all she felt was pleasure. Waves and waves of it. More than she ever thought a mortal body could contain. She felt as though she might shatter into a thousand, thousand pieces, or melt into a puddle of nothing but pure bliss.

His rhythm began to edge into something a little more frantic, and she knew that he was getting close. Could almost feel it in the way his fingers dimpled her skin, and his breath came hot and heavy against her back. “Jareth,” she cried, and she came. Came from just the feel of him inside of her, claiming her in a way no one else ever had. Or ever would again if she had any say in it.

His grip tightened, and he thrust into her a few more times before going still, releasing himself deep within her. And then he was gathering her closer still, pulling her tight against his chest, his breath against her ear. “How do you feel?”

Sarah’s heart was pounding, and a part of her couldn’t believe, still, that she had him _there_ , but… “It was incredible,” she breathed, turning her head enough to look at him. “Jareth, I—” she stilled her tongue, swallowing down the impulse to confess the emotion rising within her.

He pulled out of her, then turned her so that she lay on her back, and he could kiss her lips. She remembered his words again.

 _Steady, love_.

Love. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he demanded, his voice soft. “Speak those words I see in your eyes.”

Her vision blurred a little as tears came, and her lips trembled as she spoke, fear like a vice on her throat. “I love you,” she whispered.

Jareth’s smile was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen. “Truly?”

She nodded.

His palm cradled her cheek, and he leaned down until his forehead touched hers. “And I love you.”

Sarah released her held breath and gasped, “I thought—” she swallowed. “You’re fae. I’m human.”

“It matters not,” he said. “I would keep you, Sarah. Now and always. All our nights can be like this.”

She shivered. “I can still see my family?”

“Yes,” he said. “And your friends and your world. You can continue your work in Hollywood, and I will come to your bed each night. Or you can stay here, and I will make a place for you by my side.” He laid an open-mouthed kiss on her throat. “Tell me what you dream, Sarah, and I will do everything in my power to make it true.”

She shook her head, disbelieving. Happiness like a drug stole over her, and she laughed. “Right now, I don’t care,” she said, dragging his face up to hers for another kiss. “I just want you.”

“That, my love, you have.”

####

_Four months later…_

“He is intentionally baiting me.”

“He’s just trying to protect me,” Sarah said, sliding shut the book she had been reading on a ribbon bookmark. “But what did he do this time?”

Jareth shoved his boots toward her, and she wrinkled her nose. “What _is_ that? Manure?”

“From the gods know what creature,” he snarled. “And it’s _inside_ my boot.”

Sarah sighed. “I’ll talk to him again. He just—he’s having trouble adjusting to the idea of us being together in _this_ capacity,” she gestured between them and rose from the divan. “He’ll come around.”

“It’s been four months.”

“Dwarves are stubborn, according to him.”

“I should have tipped him into the bog ages ago,” Jareth muttered. “I don’t know why—”

“Don’t you dare,” she pointed a finger at him. “Remember he’ll be around stinky or no. He’s my friend.”

“Tell your _friend_ to stop putting shit in my shoe,” Jareth growled, tossing the boot toward the balcony before waving a hand at it. Magic scented the air, and the offending article disappeared. “There.”

Sarah put her hands on her hips. “What did you do?”

“Gave him a taste of his own medicine. Literally.” He smiled a smug smile. “We’ll see how he likes the taste of boot in his stew.”

“Jareth!”

“Sarah,” he countered with a stern look. “I’m tired of this. Let me play my way and see if I can get the nuisance to stop.” He slid closer to her. “Now, tell me, how have we been today?”

Sarah glared at him. “We still don’t _really_ know if it’s ‘we’ yet.”

Jareth put his hand on her stomach, sliding it down until he hovered just under her belly button. “You just don’t trust me.”

“I trust you,” she breathed. “You know I do.” But she was desperately afraid. She had never even considered this when they had first started sleeping together. She had thought _separate species_ and left it at that. But it seemed like she should have questioned him a little more thoroughly. A pregnancy between a human and a fae was rare, but they happened.

Jareth said that he had never detected a pregnancy before, but he was sure that what he felt when he lay his hand over Sarah’s belly were the first stirrings of a little life.

“I’m so afraid,” she whispered. “I love you, you know I do, but I never thought about being a mother.”

“And a mother to a prince,” he said, pulling her head to his chest and kissing the top of her head. “Are you ready?”

She nodded. “Can’t put it off any longer.” If he was right, she was going to start to show soon, and she did not want to have this conversation while _looking_ pregnant.

Jareth did not stand on ceremony. One moment they were standing in his chambers, and the next they were a half block away from her childhood home, standing in the shade of a willow tree. Sarah took a deep breath, and he squeezed her hand. “This will be fine.”

She looked at him. He had glamoured himself to appear more human, his eyebrows no longer upswept, and his hair tamed back into a high bun. He wore a gray suit with a white shirt open at the throat. She still wore her jeans and a long green tunic shirt he had gifted her, which he said brought out the beauty of her eyes, but they managed to look a pair. “Thank you for being here with me.”

He ducked his head down for a brief kiss. “Of course.”

Hand in hand, they walked up to the front door of her old house, standing back after ringing the doorbell to await her father’s invitation inside. Robert opened the door with a wide smile. “Sarah! And you must be Jareth. Welcome! Come in, sweetheart.”

Karen came next, wiping her hands frantically on the bottom of her apron before pulling Sarah in for a hug and giving Jareth a quick handshake. “You two look thirsty,” she said. “I have some wine in the kitchen.”

Sarah’s heart sank, but she nodded and followed her parents into their sizeable entertaining kitchen. Robert handed Jareth a glass of dark wine, and Karen gave Sarah a chilled white. The sweet smell of it almost made Sarah nauseous, and she quickly set the glass down. “Actually, could I have some water? It was a long drive.”

“Of course!” Karen chirped, though Robert narrowed his eyes, looking between Jareth and Sarah. Karen filled a glass with water and gave it to Sarah, lifting her wine glass afterward. “A toast. To making new friends.”

Sarah canted her glass against the rest of theirs and drank. Jareth gave her father an appreciative look after sampling the wine. “This is a fine vintage. My compliments.”

“Dad took a winery tour last year,” Sarah said. “He’s still making his way through all the bottles he bought and shipped back home.”

“Well worth the investment,” her father said with a proud smile. “So! Jareth. What do you do again?”

Jareth produced a metal card holder from inside his jacket, popping it open and handing one to Robert. “I’m in investing,” he said, smooth as silk. “Investing in movies to be precise. That’s how we met. On set.”

“You—invest for other people?” Robert asked, ignoring the last bit.

“I invest for myself,” Jareth corrected.

“So, you have money.”

“Dad!”

“It’s alright,” Jareth said. “Yes, I do. Is that a problem?” He took another sip of his wine.

Robert seemed to be considering that question for a moment. Finally, he said, “Not yet.”

The tension in the room eased, and they began talking of other small things—how the weather compared between New England and California. Little anecdotes from Sarah’s work with Vivian Rice, who Karen had an immense celebrity crush on. News from Roberts law firm, where he had finally made senior partner.

Eventually, they moved into the dining room, continuing conversation over a dinner of salad and roast beef. Toby joined them, sulking and sullen in his chair, wanting to be upstairs with his video games. Jareth eventually coaxed him into a discussion over those very same video games, and Toby gradually came to life as he interacted with an adult who _listened_ instead of disciplined. Sarah’s chest warmed as the interaction wore on, picturing Jareth with a little child of his own. Of _their_ own. Now that she knew him, she could see him playing with the child, reading to them, and teaching them his skills at magic.

She placed her hand over her stomach, and Robert saw the motion. He cleared his throat, silencing the table. “I’m not blind,” he said, his voice gruff as he stared Sarah down. “You may be grown, Sarah, but you’re still my daughter. I know you.”

Jareth reached for her hand under the table, and she gripped it tight, heart hammering. “You’re right, dad,” she said. “It’s just hard to find the right moment.” She looked between him and Karen—whose brow wrinkled with confusion—and breathed in deep. “Jareth and I are going to have a baby.”

Karen’s fork dropped to her plate with a clatter, her mouth agape. “What?”

Sarah licked her lips. “I’m pregnant.” Her eyes flicked to her father, stony-faced, and back to Karen, who had a hand to her throat. “We just found out and wanted to tell you right away. In person. It was Jareth’s idea, actually.” She had wanted to do it over a phone call, an entire world away. Jareth had convinced her otherwise.

The silence stretched on a moment before her father wiped his face with a napkin, stood, and stretched his hand out across the table to Jareth. Jareth rose as well, taking the offered hand and giving it a good, firm shake. “Congratulations,” Robert said. “And you better get married, or you’ll have me to answer to.”

“Dad,” Sarah groaned, putting a hand over her face. “Stop it.”

Jareth only grinned, turned to Sarah, and then dropped to one knee beside her chair. She gasped, Toby groaned and slapped a hand over his face, her father choked, and Karen let out a soft scream.

Jareth ignored them all.

“You are the kind of woman who brings a king to his knees,” he said, reaching for her hand. She slipped it into his, and he began to push a ring onto her finger. “I will spend the remainder of my days proving to you that I am worthy if you will say yes.”

Sarah smiled, tears streaming down her face without her having realized she had started to cry. It was silly, she knew. He was a king. He had already named her queen consort. A human engagement was nothing compared to that, yet—yet when she felt the weight of the diamond ring settle on her finger, she knew that this was _right_. She glanced down, saw that the center stone was encircled by cleverly carved owls feathers in yellow gold, and smiled even wider, thinking of his other form.

“Yes,” she said. The word that she had been saying ever since their first kiss. Ever since that first night. “Yes,” she said again, savoring the feel of it. “A million times, yes.”

He rose, leaning down to give her a lingering kiss that left her hungry for more, before sending her father a smug, self-satisfied look. “Will that do?”

Robert was flushed, but he nodded, looking dumbfounded. Karen jumped to her feet. “I’ll get the champagne! Oh, and the bubbling cider for you, dear,” she patted Sarah on the shoulder.

“Can I go upstairs now?” Toby whined.

Sarah leaned her head against Jareth’s side and closed her eyes.

 _If only I could bottle this feeling_ , she thought, her hand drifting down to her stomach once more. Love, pure and potent, flowed through her, and she knew in her heart of hearts that Jareth was right. Someone was growing there—someone with magic like their father.

Everything was—perfect.

##End##


End file.
